purveyor of visual ephemera and random observations

Category Archives: bit of a rant

I just put together a submission for an agency that I know are very specific about how and what they’ll consider. Proofed it, prooofed it, prooooooofed it. Sent it.

Looked again – yup, two minor typos. Eedjit. Only very minor, and caused (I believe) by the port from word to aol format but it may just mean I’m binned before I even begin. Penny, if you’re looking at this by any chance – sorry…

Anyway, topical picture post today now the Dark Knight is rocking the suburbs again. If you don’t know which (awesome) original piece of artwork this is lampooning then you need to read more comics. Everyone needs to read more comics anyway.

Anyway, was just reading the Grauniad and came across a sort of grumble with regards EUROVISION! Basically along the lines of, ‘we should stop doing it cos we was robbed cos of all those pesky foreign political votin’ type shenanigans’.

Whilst I accept that there is a sturdy political element to some of the voting, may I posit the theory that we mainly didn’t get many points because the song itself was indisputably awful?

Not hah hah awful in a post-modern, ‘ain’t those foreigners dumb’ British type of jingoistic way. Just bad. Dull and badly sung (by a man clearly too old to hit the requisite notes any longer). I can only assume we deliberately set out to not win as we are collectively broke and wasting masses of cash already on the Oh!Lympics (which is another rant for another time).

I propose that next year we petition the mighty Derek from Milkshake (if you don’t have kids, you may not get this) to sing his awesome counting song – can’t linky to it as I’m at work and it’s (bizarrely) restricted. But – and here’s the killer – adapt it so that the verse repeats (basically counting to ten each time, it’s not sophisticated) IN DIFFERENT LANGUAGES.

If even half the Christmas cards sent each year were replaced with eCards, some 100,000 trees could be spared, many of them in environmentally sensitive areas. The fuel used to cut, process and transport cards adds carbon to the atmosphere and the trees that are felled are no longer able to transform carbon dioxide into oxygen.

Heyyyyyyyyy! Merry Christmas dudes.

All of the above is essentially an elaborate excuse as to why I probably have neglected many pals and colleagues (as usual) this year. It was that or claim I’d gone Jehovah’s (incidentally, our Avon lady just became a Jehovah’s Witness. That may not mean much to you, but it saves me one more trip to the door).

All of which is essentially my Christmas message with no new pics as I’m loafing about at work until it’s reasonable to leave. So, shoddy rehash ahoy…

Ah, country music. My pantheon of greats – whilst admittedly dominated by shouty middle aged (middle aged by now anyway) men with guitars – has also always had much room and love for the country.

For a time, the roost was well and truly ruled by Whiskeytown and Wilco and I’d urge anyone to get hold of (although, why you don’t have them already I do not know…) of Strangers Almanac and Being There respectively. The roost was then thoroughly moved into by Wilco (until they turned into a Steely Dan covers band) and Mr Ryan Adams – who some may remember I was somewhat obsessed with (which had an unfortunate effect on my choice of jean fitting for a time – ah, the follies of youth. Let’s just say I was never a skinny leg kind of a build…).

Aaaaanyway. Ryan was, for a time, just unbelievably damn good. And then he just kind of went a bit, well, average. There’s a whole essay waiting to be written about lack of self-censorship and Pronce-like splurging (and don’t get me going on Pronce) but suffice to say I kind of lost faith and interest for a bit.

But, we checked him out on BBC4 (and there is another essay to be written on just how damn good BBC4 is. Equally, does anyone get the reason for BBC3??) t’other day in concert with Neil Finn and some deeply dull 60’s lady and he was – frankly – awesome. Mr Finn was clearly in a state of ‘how do I follow that?’ for most of the programme.

Anyway, welcome back Mr Adams. All of which is a long winded way of saying – here’s a picture. Which isn’t Ryan, but sort of is.

I’m aware I’ve not really been ‘telling the story’ of selling my story. I’ll be honest, it’s been a bit of a case of not wanting to ask the question in case you don’t like the answer…

I’m ready for lots of inevitable rejections but (a) they still frustrate and (b) still knock you a bit. Until I’m actually published or agented up I don’t really feel validated as an ‘artist’. So, you always wonder am/is I/this/it good enough? Plus, I need to earn some money, obviously, and it’s a hell of a lot easier and lucrative to be a landscape architect at the moment.

Lucrative, and landscape architect. Two things one rarely puts together…

Anyway, I HAVE sent the Daisy script to two publishers and one agent. I also have two further copies of Daisy to send off tomorrow on my way out for beers.

Probably they won’t pick it up but I am finally trying. And will keep doing so. And I will update on progress here as promised. I think it’s a good book, definitely better than some I’ve seen. Someone will pick it up, sometime. If not, E likes it, and that’s the main thing.

I’m also getting ready to gig as an illustrator a bit more but, again, have had a bit of a crisis of confidence. But, yesterday I sat and put all my half decent stuff together and – you know what? – it’s half decent.

So, today I will be asking lots of people lots of questions, and I may not like the answers, but what have I got t’ be scared of eh? As I so often say, beats working for a living…

Recycling a gag I came up with about 15 years ago when drawing greetings cards – and nobody wanted to buy it back then… Ach well, I think it’s funny.

As an aside, if you work in HR, or know someone who works in HR, would you please at least manage to comprehend the FACT (for it is a fact) that the ‘H’ in YOUR JOB TITLE(!!) is pronounced ‘aitch’ and not ‘haitch’. Also just as a handy crib note for every general idiot and moron that didn’t listen in school (yes dad…).

Honestly, it’s like the end of civilisation sometimes…

For example, I am aware – and almost all of my former colleagues and workmates are aware – that architect is pronounced ar-kee-tekt and not ar-chee-tekt. HR is easier to say than that.

Just wanted to mention – proudly – that I elected to spend the time alloted to the glorious royal wedding cleaning our toilet and sorting out the bins. Much more constructive…

What is it with this country? Why does everyone seem to forget these scrounging inbreds have been hoovering up literally billions of pounds of taxpayers money. But a promise of a pretty dress (I am assured) and everyone seems to revert to feudal serfdom.

YOU DO NOT KNOW THEM, THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOU AT ALL. WHY ARE YOU INTERSTED IN THE WEDDING OF A COMPLETE STRANGER?

I can honestly say that, had a bomb dropped on Hyde Park last Friday, there would have been no significant loss of life. The French (as is often the case) had it right a long time ago. Vive La Republique!

Anyway, back to Fun Bobby pictures and stuff. Nothing exciting, just rough scribbs after E amused me with some misheard lyrics. I will post some actual ‘proper’ work at some point – just to impress y’all…